Foreigner's God
by shippershape
Summary: Tommy doesn't mind having her here, in his home. He minds that she doesn't seem safe anywhere else. Suddenly he has something worth protecting, and he's not prepared to lose her too.
1. Chapter 1

The knocking catches him off guard, has him reaching for the service pistol he keeps in his nightstand. It now lives on the floor next to his bed, his nightstand in the wind with the rest of his furniture. Warily, he makes his way to the door, heaving an exasperated sigh at the voice that floats in from the hallway.

"Tommy. It's me." He swings the door open, staring incredulously down at the sodden girl on his doorstep. He glances down at his watch, hour hand just past three. Realizing she's still standing in the rain he steps back, lets her in.

"Lindy what are you doing? It's the middle of the night. And it's pouring. Are you trying to make it easier for this guy?" He winces when she glares at him, shrugging off the sweater that's too wet to be of any use to her. She seems to straighten when it's off, and he wonders how much all that clothing weighs soaked with water. Turning on his heel, he disappears down the hallway, grabbing one of his clean t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants and carrying them back to her. She takes them gratefully, then hesitates, and he realizes this is the first time she's ever been to his place. He points at the bathroom, and then she's gone, leaving a trail of tiny puddles behind her.

Tommy sighs, scrubbing his face tiredly. One way or another, she would have been keeping him up tonight. Her recklessness doesn't mix well with his newfound possessiveness, and he finds himself itching to call her at night now, just to check in. It's not his place, but he sometimes wishes it was. He looks up as she emerges, and for the first time cracks a smile. His pants are comically big on her, the nearly foot in height difference making itself known. She's rolled them up, but one leg slides down as he watches her, and she just sighs, shaking out the other leg to match. His shirt is equally big, the faded lettering on her chest a testament to his Ramones phase in college. She looks… like she belongs there. In his clothes. In his apartment. In his life. He shakes off the thought.

"So." He stares at her expectantly.

She seems to remember herself and crosses the room to sit on his couch, flipping open a laptop he hadn't seen her take out. It powers on to a picture of her and her sister, and he's reminded of where this all started for her. It's easy to forget, not that he does often. Lindy is unbelievable in her resilience. It's one of the things on a rapidly growing list of things he admires about her. She taps away on the keyboard and code that means nothing at all to him fills the screen. She expertly navigates through it, and then he's staring at the ad for his apartment, the one filed in his name inviting the entire city to come clean out his things. He frowns.

"What is this?" She knows he isn't asking about the ad. He's seen it before, but it didn't amount to much. Neither they, nor the cyber crimes unit, could come up with any leads. It had been infuriating, but not surprising. Whoever this is, they always seem to be two steps ahead.

"I hijacked the connection of the IP address the ad was posted from. I followed it back to the source, and managed to activate the webcam for a few seconds."

"I thought that was a dummy address."

"It was. But whoever was using it was still active on it. I captured this." She swivels the laptop to face him, and he squints at the screen. He's looking at a very dark, very blurry picture of a wall. His squint turns toward Lindy.

"It's a wall."

She huffs in frustration.

"Aren't you supposed to be a cop?"

He raises an eyebrow. Lindy just rolls her eyes and goes back to fiddling with her computer, the image slowly sharpening a few pixels at a time. As pieces of the image become clearer, Tommy stills, lips parting in horror. The wall in question isn't only recognizable, it's familiar. The mint green wardrobe against a cream wall, a set of pictures hanging in a square beside the door. His hand flicks toward Lindy automatically, the instinct to protect her always just beneath the surface. It's her wall. It's Lindy's.

"That's-"

"My house." She looks up at him, and for the first time he sees fear in her eyes. He's been waiting for that, wondering when it would finally sink in that this wasn't some anonymous empty threat. She's in danger. He doesn't like the way it feels now, her shivering on his couch, pupils wide with nerves.

"Sophia." He realizes, glad Lindy is safe but wondering if her roommate is too. She shakes her head.

"Sophia's fine. She's staying at her cousins place tonight. I was going to go with her but…" She bites her lip. Tommy wishes she would stop doing that.

"You came here." He says. There's a question there, and she hears it.

"I thought you should know. I thought you'd want to know." He thinks she's talking about the ad, about the fact that she's found a lead, but he also thinks she's talking about herself. She didn't come here at three in the morning to tell him about it. She came to be here. It means more to him than it should, more, he imagines, than it does to her. He nods, sits down beside her, his eyes trained on the picture on the screen. He feels violated on her behalf but endlessly comforted by the fact that she's here, in front of him.

"Well you're not going anywhere else tonight. I'll sleep on the couch." He nods toward the bedroom. Lindy gives him a look, one that always ends with her doing something she shouldn't and him getting a headache. He groans. "What?"

"Aren't you going to do something? We have a lead!"

"We have a picture of your bedroom. Do you still have a connection to that IP address?"

She hesitates.

"No."

"Then there's nothing we can do right now that can't be done when the sun is actually up." He lies back on the couch. "You should get some sleep." She doesn't move.

"Tommy…"

He sits up.

"Hey, it's going to be fine. You're here, and Sophia's safe, and that's all that matters for now. I told you I'm not going to let anything else happen to you." He means that. She's his top priority, he'll drop everything to protect her if he has to. After everything, he hopes she knows that. She's safe here.

"I know." Her eyes linger on the gun that he discarded on the coffee table. "I don't believe in guns." She says softly, and there's something there, a memory maybe. He isn't sure how, but he knows she's thinking about Ben.

"Well, I don't believe in illegal hacking and spyware so I guess we're just going to have to learn to compromise." She brightens. "Not that I condone any of your illegal activity." He quickly corrects, and her answering smile is like a shot of whiskey, warming as it goes down. She nudges him with her shoulder.

"I don't know, I think we make a pretty good team." She says, grinning. He frowns to cover his satisfaction at hearing her call them a team.

"Team? I'm the cop. You're my-"

"Source. Yeah I know." But her smile stays in place. She finally stands up, and he immediately misses the warmth of her beside him. "I can take the couch, I've slept on worse." He rolls his eyes.

"Okay, that's nice. You're not sleeping on the couch." As if to make his point, Tommy leans, back, sprawling his limbs across it. Lindy's smile widens, then she sighs.

"Fine. Do you need blankets, or-"

"Christ." He cuts her off, throwing one of the couch cushions at her. "Just go to bed. I have stuff in the closet." She dodges his cushion with impressive reflexes, then shrugs.

"Alright. Night."

He waves her off, getting up once she's gone to lock the door. He checks the windows too, just in case. Suddenly he has something worth protecting.


	2. Chapter 2

Tommy is almost always up by eight. So when he wakes up with full sunlight streaming in, and rolls off the couch to find himself on the floor, he's a little disoriented. His eyes fall on the laptop sitting on top of his table, and the night before comes rushing back. Lindy's here. His eyes flick towards the wall clock, and he frowns. It's well after ten. He doesn't usually sleep so long, lately he's barely slept at all, but most of that has been due to worry about Lindy. It makes sense that having her close has eased that tension a little.

Deciding to let her sleep in, he heads to the kitchen. Judging by the fact that she's still asleep they'll both be needing some coffee. He starts a fresh pot, then makes a beeline for the bathroom. With the information Lindy had brought him the night before, he has a feeling this is going to be a long day. He might as well start it with a hot shower. He starts the water running and steps under the spray, trying to wash away that gut feeling that something is about to go wrong. He's had it ever since this stalker surfaced, a nagging thought that this can only end one way. He tries to push it away, but he can't.

As his feet hit the mat he realizes he's forgotten to bring in a change of clothes. Normally, it wouldn't matter. Then again, normally Lindy isn't sleeping in his bedroom. Sighing, he wraps a towel around his waist and creeps into his room, unable to help the smile as he spots Lindy sprawled out across his bed. She sleeps like he imagined she would, like chaos, her limbs strewn in every direction, hair wild. She still looks perfect. Tearing his eyes away, Tommy searches through what's left of his clothing and comes up with a pair of jeans and an old t-shirt. The shirt will be a little small, but it will do for now. He really needs to replace his stuff, but up until now it hasn't been a priority. Suddenly the idea of wearing a _Frankie Says Relax _t-shirt into the precinct has him reconsidering.

He tries to sneak out as quickly as he came, but his foot finds a wet spot and he hits the floor, hard. There's a startled kind of snuffling coming from the bed and he looks up from where he's laying on the ground to see Lindy shooting upright in bed, eyes wide. Her gaze falls on him, and the tension leaves her shoulders. She relaxes back into the pillows with a huff of annoyance.

"Couldn't you just have set on alarm on my phone like a normal person?" She groans, covering her face with a pillow. He grins.

"This wasn't a wakeup call. I was just grabbing some pants." She lifts the pillow at that, eyeing his barely towel clad chest with an air of amusement. She seems to realize she's staring and looks away. Aware that he's essentially laying naked on the floor, he collects his clothes and stands. "There's coffee in the kitchen." He tells her, shuffling back toward the bathroom. He can practically feel her eyes follow him, and smiles. Apart from the bruise that he can already feel forming, this isn't the worst way to wake up.

He emerges from the bathroom, fully dressed this time, and finds the kitchen empty. Shaking his head, he walks back to his bedroom to find Lindy facedown on his bed.

"Lindy." She just groans. "It's after eleven. Get up." She might not have things to do today, but he does, and no one really needs to sleep past ten anyways. "Lindy!" He reaches down, gives her leg a shove. Nothing. He rolls his eyes. "Fine." He grabs a fistful of blanket, ripping them off of her with a flourish. His eyebrows shoot up as her bare legs fold toward her chest, huddling in fetal position. He considers leaving her there, considers averting his eyes from the very long legs that are definitely no longer hidden in his sweatpants, but it's just too tempting. Leaning down, he grips her waist and heaves her out of bed. He tosses her over his shoulder and tries not to laugh at the noise of indignance that follows.

"Tommy." Lindy says calmly, as they head toward the kitchen.

"Yeah."

"Put me down."

This time he does laugh, careful not to catch her head on the corner as he turns. He sets her down on the couch, breath catching as he finally sees her. It's different, seeing her in the daylight like this. His shirt hangs down over her hips, but she's discarded the sweatpants at some point during the night. Her hair is curled from the rain last night, and wild from sleep. Her bare legs hang over the couch, and he wonders how someone so small can have legs so long. Feeling weird for staring, he looks away. The image of her, still heavy with sleep, stays with him. He clears his throat.

"Coffee?" She nods, and he retreats toward the coffee maker.

He's already handing her the mug when he realizes he didn't have to ask her how she takes it. Black, two sugars. He just knows. The past few hours have shed a light on just how familiar the two of them have become, and he finds himself unsurprised. Being with Lindy isn't easy, she drives him crazy. She's reckless and defiant and he worries about her more than anything else. But they've hit a rhythm somewhere along the way, and they work. Somehow. He sits next to her on the couch, thinking he also needs to get a new kitchen table and some chairs. Beside him, Lindy makes a noise of disgust, and he glances over in time to see her spit the coffee back into the mug.

"This is disgusting." She informs him, placing the mug on the table and eyeing it with contempt. He smirks. While he doesn't disagree, he's too much of a caffeine junkie to dump it out.

"Yeah, well, someone stole my coffee maker. This is an old one from Cyber Crimes." He sits back, propping his feet up on the table. Lindy frowns at him, her eyes slowly moving to roam his apartment. From the look of surprise on her face she hadn't noticed the state it was in when she arrived the night before.

"Woah." She cranes her neck to take in the empty space surrounding them. "They really cleaned you out." She folds her legs beneath her, straightening up as though suddenly taking this seriously. "You need to get…stuff." She tells him seriously. He grins. She's just so damn cute.

"Yeah I know."

"You've been living like this for… what, a week?" He shrugs. Lindy stands, crossing to the bag she'd brought with her the night before. She leans down to rummage through it, and Tommy has to turn away when her shirt lifts at the back, exposing a pair of black underwear and an ass he's not going to be able to get out of his head for days.

"Something like that." He answers, voice strained. He stares determinedly at the window until she sits back down, phone in hand.

"Okay, let's make a list." She taps at her phone then looks up at him expectantly.

"A list of what?" The confusion is obvious in his voice, the image of her bent over still blacking out the rest of his thought.

"Things you need to buy?" She stares at him like he's an idiot, and he nods.

"Right. Uh. Clothes." He mutters, glancing down at the too-tight t-shirt currently stretched across his chest. Her gaze follows his and she presses her lips together, hiding a smile. "A kitchen table. Tv. Nightstand, dressers…" He sighs, scrubbing his face in frustration. Insurance will cover all his expenses, but he hates shopping. He remembers vowing to keep the same furniture for the rest of his life after an eight hour battle at the furniture outlet in Jersey. Unfortunately, that's no longer an option.

"You also need a coffee maker." She points out, frowning at the mug of coffee she abandoned. He grunts.

"Okay, add that to the list."

"Anything else?"

He thinks.

"Speakers, a couple bookshelves, basically all my appliances."

"Computer?" She asks. He snorts. That would be the first thing on her mind. He shakes his head.

"No, I've just got a laptop and that was in my car." He cocks his head. "You just gonna e-mail me that list?" He knows he has a pad of paper and a pen around somewhere, but Lindy being Lindy had jumped onto the handiest electronic device she could find. He needs that list, although he doesn't really want it. This is going to be at least two days worth of shopping, and he's already dreading every second.

"I could." Lindy answers, slowly. "Or I could just come with you." He stares.

"You want to come furniture shopping with me." His disbelief is obvious. She shrugs.

"I actually like that kind of shopping. Plus, it's really obvious you hate it. Maybe if I come we can get this finished faster." Tommy sits up, searching her face for a sign that she's kidding. There isn't one.

"Ohh." He groans in relief. "I could kiss you right now." The second the words are out of his mouth the atmosphere changes, the easiness replaced by an awkward tension. She clears her throat.

"I, uh, need to get dressed." His eyes retrace their earlier path along her legs.

"That's a good idea. If you want I can swing by your place and pick up some clothes while you shower." He offers.

"I can get them myself."

He laughs. Is she serious?

"No way are you going back there by yourself. I should never have let you stay there after Ben." He says, and her eyes darken at Ben's name. He feels it too, every time, like a bruise being prodded. There's a reason he doesn't bring his friend up often anymore.

"Tommy-"

"It's not up for debate. You can shower, or not, and you can wear that," he nods at her half nakedness. "Or I can grab you some clothes to change into. But you aren't going back to that apartment right now, not until I've checked it out. It's a crime scene. Again." She bites her lip, clearly struggling with her unrelenting need to challenge authority. In the end she just sighs.

"Okay. Just… grab whatever." For a moment he thinks he's about to get specific instructions, but she doesn't clarify. He nods. Before he leaves, he grabs her a towel, for some reason no one wanted his linens, and sweeps the apartment one more time.

"Lindy." She turns to look at him from the bathroom doorway. "Don't let anyone in. Don't open the door, don't open the window, don't leave." His voice is serious, more so than he's been since she got here. He suddenly doesn't want to leave her alone at all. It seems like every time he turns his back something new has happened and she's hurt, or missing. But it's not realistic for him to be with her every moment of the day, and he isn't sure she would let him try that even if it was. Besides, her place was only a few blocks away. She meets his gaze with a look of understanding.

"I won't. Scouts honour." She makes the hand sign that goes with her promise and he rolls his eyes. She's as much a boyscout as he's a country western singer.

"I'll be back in fifteen minutes." He promises, and he catches the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, although he gets the feeling he wasn't supposed to.

"Okay." She nods.

He turns, and locks the door behind him as he goes. As he walks away from his front door, he has the strangest sensation that someone has tethered him to it with an elastic band. Every step he takes, the pull to turn around and go back gets stronger. He ignores it. She'll be alright on her own for fifteen minutes.

He runs anyways.

* * *

**A/N: So, what do you think so far? Are you excited for a Tindy shopping trip?**


	3. Chapter 3

"This is fine." Tommy runs a finger across the black leather couch, already exhausted from shopping. It's only been a few hours, and they've already finished most of the furniture. All that's left to buy is the couch, and then they're onto re-stocking his wardrobe. "Why do I even need a new couch? I've got that old one from the precinct, it's still in good condition. I can keep that."

"Sure. If you want to be a lonely bachelor for the rest of your life." Lindy scoffs, eyeing something green a couple aisles over. He follows her eyeline and shakes his head.

"Oh no. Not happening." But she's already making her way towards it. He sighs. It would bother him that she keeps doing this, ignoring everything he says he wants and picking out whatever she wants, but he actually likes everything they've gotten so far. Lindy seems to have a knack for this, and she has a pretty good read on his taste, somehow. So he just follows her, unsurprised when the dark green linen is exactly what he wants.

"So?" She asks, though the smirk on her face tells him she already knows what he's thinking.

"You're weirdly good at this." He mutters, waving a sales person over. A chipper looking blonde in a pantsuit is there in an instant, clipboard ready.

"You two make a decision?" She trills, her voice instantly reminding Tommy of one of those animated Disney princess movies his cousin made him watch. Snow white. It's uncanny, and a little unnerving. Lindy watches him stare for a moment before turning back to the woman.

"Yeah. We'll take this one." She gestures at the sofa and the woman hands over the clipboard. Tommy breathes a sigh of relief as Lindy begins filling out the paperwork for delivery, he's already written up half a dozen identical order sheets. She fills out his address and contact information without a word, and the saleswoman eyes them appraisingly.

"You two make a lovely couple." She smiles, one of those big fake realtor smiles, and Tommy matches it. It's a compliment they've already received at least five times today, and at some point they stopped trying to explain themselves and just gave in.

"Thanks." He says. Lindy just rolls her eyes as she finishes filling out the form, and hands it back to the woman. They square away the rest of the details, and he hands her his credit card. Once she's gone, he turns to Lindy. "Done. Finally."

She holds up a hand, and he takes the cue for a high five, shaking his head.

"That wasn't so bad, right?" She asks, and he laughs.

"The company was definitely an improvement." He looks down at her, trying to downplay the sincerity of that statement. "Thank you." She smiles. It's nothing to her, he knows, but it reminds him of the other girls he's gone furniture shopping with. There weren't a lot, and the circumstances were very different but somehow this feels more intimate than any of those times.

"Hey anytime." Lindy bumps her hip against him. It barely reaches his thigh, and he grins. "So, onto fixing this." She says, pointing at his outfit. He's about to respond, probably with something sarcastic, when the saleswoman reappears.

"Here." She hands Tommy back his card, wishes them both a nice afternoon, then she's gone again. Tommy glances at his watch.

"I have to pick up Boris at six… but that should be more than enough time. Right?" He asks, suddenly afraid Lindy is going to drag him on a marathon shopping spree all over the state. She frowns.

"Boris?"

"Oh. Yeah, my dog. I sort of share him with an ex." He shrugs. They make their way back to the car, but he stops before they get there.

"How do you sort of share a dog w-" Lindy realizes he's stopped, and cocks her head. "What's wrong?"

"Uh, nothing." He shakes his head. It's not nothing, it's Ben. Tommy stares at the spot beside his car where he saw his friend seconds before. It happens sometimes, he knows that. It's not real, and he knows that too. The sergeant made him see a shrink after Ben died, it didn't last long. She'd told him that he was fine, that it was normal to see the dead every once in a while. It didn't mean you were crazy, it just meant you missed them. But Tommy isn't about to tell that to Lindy. He closes the distance to his car, unlocking the doors and sliding in without looking back. He hears her do the same, and shoves the key into the ignition. Lindy doesn't say anything but he can feel her staring. He finally gives in, turning to meet her gaze.

"What's wrong?" She asks again. Her eyes are big, filled with concern. It always strikes him as incredible that she worries about him, that she even has room to think about what other people are feeling. It's one of the reason he loves her. _I don't love her, _he thinks, the thought a panicked reminder, an automatic response whenever his true feelings surface. It's a lie, but it's one he tells himself often.

"I just thought I saw someone I knew." Silence follows. She's waiting for him to elaborate, but he can't. Eventually she seems to accept that and shrugs.

"Mall?" She asks, the anticipation in her eyes making Tommy very nervous.

"Um." But he doesn't really have any choice, and fifteen minutes later they're walking through Nordstroms, Tommy nearly sprinting to keep up with her. Logically, he should be outpacing her, but she can maneuver between the racks a lot easier. As they walk things seem to just appear in his arms. Shirts, jackets, pants. Before long his arms are aching, and he finally calls out to the blur that he's pretty sure is Lindy.

"Hold up." She stops, turning around with a distracted expression.

"What?"

"This is enough to start." He says, trying to ration with the manic gleam in her eye. Something is off with her, something he can't put his finger on. It's like the moment they left the furniture store she's had a kind of hysterical energy. He's starting to feel like one wrong move could cause something to break, so he starts sidling slowly towards the dressing room. He doesn't have to look back to know Lindy is following him.

The dressing room attendant eyes his pile of clothes with disinterest, and leads him to a stall with strict instructions about how many items he can take with him. He hands the rest to her, watching as she nearly topples over under the weight.

"Oh." The attendant turns back to him, the bored expression still firmly in place. "And your girlfriend waits out here." She eyes Lindy with something like distaste, then returns to her post folding clothes. Tommy glances at Lindy, but she just rolls her eyes and shoos him inside the stall.

Half an hour later he finds himself struggling with an oxford Lindy picked out. In truth, Lindy has picked it all out, but this was definitely one of the pieces he would never have chosen for himself. Something about the buttons just didn't seem to line up. He struggles with them for almost a minute before there's a voice outside the door.

"Are you okay in there? It's been like five minutes since you came out." Lindy actually sounds a little worried, and he snorts. Exactly what kind of danger he could get into in a department store changing room he isn't sure, but if there was something it would be the two of them that would find it.

"I'm fine." He mutters. "The buttons on this shirt are messed up." He starts to undo the ones he had managed to fasten, and Lindy sighs.

"They're just normal buttons, here-" She swings the door open, and he blinks at her, fingers still plucking at the button.

"It's fine." He grumbles, slapping her fingers away when she tries to help. "I'm not going to buy a shirt that takes ten minutes to put on."

"You're such a complainer." Lindy murmurs, leaning against the wall. She stays like that as he finishes unbuttoning, and he finally looks at her, eyebrow raised.

"Were you going to help me with my pants too?" She blushes, slipping back out into the waiting area. Tommy closes the door behind her with a little regret. He turns to sift through the remaining items, holding up a pair of pants he hadn't noticed before. There's a matching jacket, and he checks the price tag with a sense of foreboding. "You've got to be kidding." He mutters it under his breath, but within seconds there's a click as Lindy swings the door back open, frowning at him.

"What now?" She asks, then sees the outfit in his hands. Her lip quirks, and she fails miserably in her attempt to hide her excitement.

"Really." He throws the ridiculously expensive suit at her. "I don't need this." She thrusts it back towards him.

"Oh come on. I thought you could use something a little dressy in your wardrobe. Something other than jeans and flannel." She dangles the hanger in front of his face, but he just crosses his arms across his chest.

"No."

She pouts. He hates himself.

"Fine." The door makes disappointingly little noise when he slams it, and he eyes the label inside the jacket with resignation. He should have known better than to give her free reign. He slides on the pants, which fit perfectly, and sorts through the hangers to find a shirt to match the jacket. The only one he seems to have is the oxford with problematic buttons.

Sighing, Tommy sticks his head out into the hall. Where Lindy was standing moments ago there's now only empty space. He frowns, craning his neck to catch sight of her. After a few seconds his heart gives a little kick. She's fine. She probably just went to grab another pair of jeans. _She's fine._ But logic is no match for the doubt that presses on his chest, so he steps out of the stall, slowly making his way toward the attendant's desk. Just as he's about to ask her if she's seen Lindy, the object of his concern rounds the corner, walking straight into him. She bounces backwards, and he reaches out automatically, hands gripping her hips. She straightens up and he lets go, ignoring the feeling of loss as he does so.

"Wh-" Lindy stares at him, and Tommy is suddenly aware of the fact that he's wearing a three hundred dollar pair of dress pants and no shirt. He turns around, marching straight toward his changing stall. "Where's your shirt?" Lindy asks, trailing behind him.

"I was coming out to say I need one to go with the suit. Not that I'm buying it." He warns. He can't see her, but he knows she's grinning.

"Okay."

He hears her footsteps stop and change direction, and he swivels to call out before she disappears again.

"Lindy." She turns her head. "Just… hurry back." Understanding flickers behind her eyes, and she gives him a reassuring smile.

"I will."

It irritates Tommy that he's become this way, uncomfortable having her out of his sight for a minute. He thinks about how much sleep he's going to get when she's no longer staying in his apartment. Something tells him the answer is little to none.

She keeps her word, returning in record speed with a couple dresses and a selection of shirts. She hands the shirts over the door, making a crack about letting her know if he needs help with the buttons. That earns her another door slam. Tommy hears her settle into the dressing room beside him, and tries not to get distracted by the sound of her zipper.

"You know." She muses through the wall. "If this cop thing doesn't work out, you could probably make it as a Chippendale." He snorts.

"I'll keep that in mind."

Her door opens, and then she's tapping on his.

"I want to see the suit." He rolls his eyes, glad she can't see him do it, and steps out into the hall. His eyes fall on Lindy, taking in the way the red dress she's wearing clings to her skin, cutting out to reveal a generous eyeful of cleavage. It's sexy, and something about the way her skin glows underneath it makes her look positively indecent. It takes Tommy a minute to collect himself enough to speak.

"That's, uh, it's nice." He waves vaguely at her dress. She glances down at herself with disinterest.

"Yeah, it's alright. Spin, I want to see how those pants fit." He obeys, feeling like an idiot. Her hands find the waistline of his pants where his shirt has come untucked, and suddenly all he can feel is the blood rushing away from his head. He practically leaps away from her touch.

"This is ridiculously expensive. I don't need an Armani suit." He grumbles, trying to distract her from his jumpiness. Lindy shakes her head.

"It's gorgeous. Every guy needs one nice suit. Look at you." She grabs him by the shoulders, this time he doesn't move away, and steers him towards the big mirror at the end of the row. He's looking at himself, but all he can see is the way they look together, her in her red dress and him in a suit and jacket. She's right, he looks good. But together they look better.

A beep comes from his dressing room, and he tears his eyes away from their reflection. Feeling inexplicably guilty, he walks over and picks up his phone. The sigh is involuntary as he reads the text.

"Everything okay?" Lindy asks, already back in her room. He nods, then remembers she can't see him.

"Yeah. I've just got to pick up Boris sooner than I thought. My ex is going out of town." He sets his phone back down with a groan, all the reasons his relationship with Ida didn't work out coming back to the surface. "We should probably wrap this up." He says, stripping out of the suit and pulling his own jeans back on. He hears her doing the same, and once again concentrates very hard on not focusing on the sound of her zipper. He meets her back outside the room, arms full of clothes. They walk toward the register, falling into step together.

"Can you drop me off at Elicia's on the way? I left a bag in your trunk." Lindy looks up at him, batting her eyes. He drops his items on the counter in front of the register, barely paying attention as the cashier begins to scan and fold the clothes.

"Where are staying?"

"Sophia's cousin's place. It's on Martin Street."

Tommy makes a face. He knows that neighborhood, has answered more than a couple calls there when he was a beat cop. It's safe enough, but it's far. Too far. The cashier asks him a question and he pushes his card toward her without looking.

"What if you just stayed with me?" He asks. They both stand in silence for a few seconds after the words are out, him just as surprised as her.

"What? It could be a while before I can find another place to live. I'm guessing you're not going to let me stay in my place anymore, so I need to find a new apartment." Lindy folds her arms across her chest, the red dress dangling from her hand.

"It's fine." Tommy shrugs. "This way I can keep an eye on you, and if we need you for the case you're close."

"Just temporarily." Lindy says, hesitant.

"Yeah."

"Okay." Lindy blinks at him, looking like she's unsure if she's made a mistake. The cashier hands him his bags, and he plucks the dress from Lindy's hand, shoving both it and his credit card back towards the woman. The confusion on Lindy's face turns to annoyance. "What are you doing?"

"My insurance is paying today." He says, grinning. It's true, but he doubts they'll cover Lindy's dress. Not that she needs to know that. "Besides, I like the dress, and I owe you for helping me out. Consider it a thank you." She bites her lip.

"You're letting me crash at your place. I think we're more than even." He just shrugs, handing her the now wrapped and bagged dress.

"Too late now."

She accepts the bag, shooting him a reproachful look, and they make their way back to the car.

"I need to get some more clothes." She realizes aloud. He nods.

"Okay, we'll stop there on the way back from Ida's."

He pulls out of the parking lot, tracing the familiar route to his ex's house, the one he eventually moved into. He used to make this trip in the middle of the night at least once a week, suffice it to say their relationship didn't start out as anything serious. Every once in a while he marvels that they made it as far as they did, moving in together and adopting Boris. Then again, he hasn't always had the best luck with women. As if on cue, Lindy speaks.

"Tommy?"

"Yeah."

"Don't buy me things."

He sighs. She's independent and stubborn, and he meant what he said about the dress being a gesture of thanks. But he knows she means it, and the truth is he has no intention of showering her with gifts. He isn't into that, and she isn't either, and even if he thought he could buy her affection he wouldn't want to. So he agrees.

"Okay."

The car is silent for a few minutes, Lindy fiddles with the radio, flicking through a few stations but refusing to settle on one. Eventually she turns it off and sits back in her seat. They're almost all the way to Ida's when she speaks again.

"Tommy?"

"Yeah."

"Did you buy the suit?"

"I bought the suit."

* * *

**A/N: **There's the shopping trip, I hope you enjoyed some mindless fluff. There is some plot coming in the next chapter in case you're missing it. Up next: Lindy meets the ex and the dog, and a lot of boxes arrive at the apartment. Bonus: Something is different when they go back to Lindy's place to pick up her clothes. I love reading your reviews, thank you so much for those who wrote them!


	4. Chapter 4

Tommy pulls up in front of a gorgeous townhouse, and Lindy automatically reaches for her seatbelt, then pauses.

"Should I wait here?"

He shrugs.

"It's up to you. I shouldn't be long, but sometimes she gets chatty. You'd probably like her, actually." He looks a little uncomfortable at the thought. Decided, Lindy unbuckles her seatbelt, and Tommy does the same. She marvels at the garden as they pass through it. How anyone has the time to maintain something like this she has no idea. It suddenly occurs to her that whoever lives here probably pays someone else to do that.

"Is Ida rich?" She asks abruptly. Tommy frowns at her.

"You could say that. She's a model. She does okay for herself."

Thrown, Lindy barely has a minute to prepare herself when the door swings open, revealing a knockout blonde with green eyes. Those eyes land on Lindy, and her mouth opens in surprise.

"Hi." Ida smiles uncertainly. Her gaze shifts back to Tommy. "Hey Tomtom. Who's this?" She gestures at Lindy without looking at her. Tommy does though, and Lindy mouths Tomtom? He grimaces, then turns back to Ida.

"Hey, Ida. This is Lindy."

Her stunning features slide into comprehension.

"Ben's Lindy?" There's an awkward silence. Lindy takes the familiar punch of pain with a wince.

"Um." The words not anymore sit on her tongue, but she can't force them out. Ida seems to realize what she's done, and her face softens.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"It's okay." Lindy says. It's not, but it will be eventually. Tommy glances over at her, the concern written all over his face. She gives him a small smile, one she doesn't feel. He smiles back, and suddenly her own is a little more genuine.

"Where's Boris?" Tommy asks, turning back to Ida. She whistles, and the sound of paws on hardwood taps it way toward the door. Suddenly, a huge furry head is pushing Ida out of the way and Tommy crouches down to meet it. "Hey, buddy!" Boris nuzzles him, the sounds coming from both boys ones of contentment. Lindy's smile widens. She's used to Tommy in cop mode, protecting her, bossing her around. As she watches him like this, soft and happy, something shifts inside her. It's as though for weeks she's seen him one of two ways. Either he's the police, which makes him an ally in the barest sense of the word, or he's just someone else who lost Ben. That's how she sees him.

It's been impossible after everything they've been through for her not to develop an affection for Tommy. She cares about him, worries about him. After today she can admit that he's more to her than a cop or a reminder of Ben.

Ida hands over some things that Lindy assumes are for Boris, and she and Tommy get lost in chit-chat. Feeling a little out of place, Lindy bends down, scrubbing Boris firmly behind the ears. He lets out a happy snuffle and presses his head against her leg. Charmed, she lets out a bubble of laughter. Tommy and Ida pause their conversation to look at her. She blushes.

"Sorry." She's never been big on dogs, mostly because always she moved around too much to entertain the idea of taking care of one. Standing here, with a big ball of fur rubbing happily against her knee, she's starting to see the appeal.

"We should go." Tommy murmurs, still staring at her. There's something about his expression, that softness that Lindy saw earlier, that makes it hard to look away. She just nods.

"I'll call you when I'm back." Ida says, waving them off, and Lindy wanders back towards the car. She pauses at the door, remembering the time she dated a guy who always put his dog in the front seat. But Tommy passes her, pulling the back door open, and Boris jumps in with ease. Tommy notices her watching them, and he raises an eyebrow as he pulls his own door open.

"What?"

"Nothing. He's just…big." She shrugs. A shadow crosses his face, and he frowns.

"Do you have a thing about dogs? I probably should have asked." He looks worried, and that touches her in a way she wasn't expecting. This whole day has taken her by surprise. She had never thought about how little she knew Tommy until now, and she finds that her interest is more than polite curiosity. She wants to know him. She slides onto her seat, shaking her head as he does the same.

"No, it's fine. I just can't believe I didn't know you had a dog." It's true. Watching them together only makes her realize that this is a big piece of his life she's never seen. It's strange, with all the time they've spent together, that she doesn't actually know anything about him. Ben never talked about him when they were together, mostly because back then Lindy knew him as Detective Calligan, and that would have blown a hole in Ben's cover.

Tommy looks thoughtful.

"I guess it just never came up."

They sit in comfortable silence aside from Boris chiming in every once in a while from the backseat. By the time they arrive at Lindy's building their prior late night is beginning to take its toll. She yawns as she makes her way up the steps, pausing when she hears Tommy's footsteps behind her.

"You don't have to come with me." She calls over her shoulder, but he keeps coming. Rolling her eyes, she continues up the stairs to her door, stopping outside to dig for her key. By the time she finds it Tommy has caught up, and he's right on her heels as she pushes the door open.

The second she steps foot inside, Lindy knows something is wrong. She turns to Tommy.

"Do you smell that?"

He nods.

"Paint."

Wondering if Sophia came back early to do some redecorating, Lindy heads for her bedroom. Tommy grabs her arm, and she looks back at him.

"How about you let me go first."

Lindy nods, and he steps in front of her. She follows him in, walking straight into him when he stops abruptly in the doorway to her bedroom.

"Wha-"

"Go wait in the living room." His voice is flat, commanding. From the lack of emotion on his voice Lindy senses that whatever he's seen isn't an immediate threat. Still, she needs to know. She tries to push past him, but his hand shoots out, holding her back. "Lindy-" But she's already slipped under his arm, and as she straightens up she sees exactly what he was trying to hide.

Black paint is smeared across her wall, the letters clear despite the drips running through them. The smell of paint is stronger here, and between that and the words staring back at her Lindy begins to feel lightheaded. She blinks, but the message is still there.

She's mine.

Lindy glances back at Tommy, his hand still on her wrist. His grip tightens as he watches her, then he lets go.

"He was here." Her voice is steady, and for that she's grateful.

"Well, we already knew that, right?" Tommy says slowly, eyes still trained carefully on her face. He's watching her like she's about to break. She hates it.

"But he was here again, after you were. This happened today, after you came to get my stuff." She's thinking out loud, fighting the urge to walk over and run her fingers through the paint, smearing the threat into something unrecognizable. It won't change anything, but still. She can't look at it anymore. She walks to her closet, pulling out the luggage set her ex-boyfriend had bought her as a joke. You'll be on the run someday. It's good to be prepared. Her hands shake as she fills it with clothes, shoes. One by one she packs things away, knowing that they won't be coming back here, not ever. Enough is enough. The hand on her shoulder sends her pulse racing, and she spins around. Tommy hesitates, then grabs her by the shoulders.

"Lindy." She's never heard him like this, voice gentle and sincere. It soothes her, and she takes a deep breath. No one's ever said her name quite like that, like it means something. Like she means something. She tries to pull herself together.

"I'm fine. I just need to finish packing."

He looks skeptical.

"This is a crime scene. Look, just take your suitcase and go wait in the living room. I'll be out in a minute, I've got to call Yeager. You can finish packing after someone comes out to look at this." He's back to business, Lindy can tell, and she finds herself missing that momentary softness. He's not a cold guy, but sometimes she feels like he's afraid to blur the lines of professionalism. Lindy can't blame him for not wanting to get close to her. She hasn't exactly been a good luck charm for the last few guys she dated. The thought sends a shot of ice through her system, even the vaguest thought of Tommy ending up like Ben freezing her from the inside out. She tries to shake off the feeling.

"Fine." She zips the suitcase even though it's barely half full, and carries it out to the couch without a backwards glance. She stares at her couch, not wanting to sit down. Suddenly everything here feels contaminated, violated. It should be a familiar feeling by now, but it still shakes her, still repulses her. She wants to shower, she wants to leave, she wants to find this son of a bitch and light his entire life on fire. But mostly she wants someone to be there. Ever since Ben died Sophia has been simultaneously distant and suffocating. George always comes through for her when she needs a hacker, but he has yet to really be dragged into this mess and for his sake Lindy wants to keep it that way. She's beginning to realize that the body count surrounding her makes for a very lonely life. Just as she thinks it Tommy steps into the hallway, his eyes sweeping the room until they find her. At least she has Tommy. Sort of.

"Yeager will be here in a few minutes. He just has to check for anything the killer might have left behind." He tells her, then frowns as she continues to stand there.

"There won't be anything." She knows this. They both do. Whoever the flirtual killer is, they're too smart to do something as careless as leave evidence behind. She knows cops have protocols for this kind of thing, and it's one of the reasons she usually refuses to work with them. Tommy just sighs.

"Yeah, I know. Look, do you want to sit down? Can I get you a drink or something?"

"No, its-I'm fine." She's not. She doesn't want to sit down, she wants to scream. The anger that someone could have stolen her life from her like this begins to surface, and she turns away to keep him from seeing it. He would only worry more. She can feel her grip on her emotions starting to slide.

"Lindy-"

"I don't want to sit down, Tommy." She twirls back to face him, struggling to keep her voice even. "I don't want to touch anything. I don't want to drink anything. This is my apartment, and all I can think about is that he's been here. Did he sit here?" She asks, shoving roughly at the couch. "Did he look at these?" She picks up one of the framed photos of her and Sophia at the beach and tosses it to him. He catches it, looking wary. "He keeps taking things from me. Ben, my independence, my friends, my reputation. I didn't even know it was possible to take somebody's home away, but he did. This place is ruined now, it doesn't belong to me anymore." The anger ebbs slowly away, leaving a vast emptiness in its wake. "I don't have a place that's mine. I don't have a…" She almost says person, but he's already looking so sorry for her that she can't do it. This isn't what she wanted, she doesn't need his pity. She just needs her life back.

A knock on the door breaks the tension that hangs between them, and Tommy calls for the visitor to let themselves in. Yeager walks in, hesitating at the energy still hanging in the air.

"Am I interrupting something?" He looks confused. Tommy glances back at Lindy, then shakes his head.

"No. I'll show you what you're looking at." He ushers Yeager down the hall, leaving Lindy to collect herself. She groans. I'm not a victim. I can't afford to be. Putting the photo back in it's place, she leans against the wall, hoping Yeager is fast at whatever it is that he does. As she stands there the adrenaline begins to wear off, and the fatigue from earlier starts to set back in. By the time the two detectives come to get her, she's almost asleep on her feet.

"Hey. You okay?"

She blinks, Tommy's face coming into focus in front of her.

"Yeah." She yawns. "You done?" He nods. Picking up her suitcase, she drags it back down the hall. It takes most of her remaining energy to force herself back into the bedroom, commanding herself not to close her eyes when the ugly black script on the wall comes into view. She turns her back to it, grabbing whatever she can get her hands on. She fills the first suitcase, and the second. When she turns around to grab the sweater she'd tossed onto the bed she catches sight of Tommy eyeing the luggage suspiciously.

"Don't worry, I'm not moving in permanently. But I might as well get this stuff packed up while I'm here." She says, grabbing another pair of heels and trying to wedge them into the suitcase. The lid flips closed easily, but when she tugs at the zipper nothing happens. Sighing, she tries again, but no luck. "A little help?" She asks. He walks over, and suddenly he's lifting her into the air. "What are you-"

"I'm helping." He says, smirking. He sets her down on top of the suitcase, and under her weight he pulls the zipper closed easily. Stepping back, he raises an eyebrow. She forces a smile, but it's heavy on her face, and it falls after a second or two. Seeming to pick up on the mood, Tommy grabs both her suitcases by the handles. "Is this it?" She nods. He lifts them off the ground with a grunt, and Lindy tries not to notice the way it makes the muscles in his forearms stand out. She follows him, and they come out into an empty apartment.

"Where's Yeager?"

"Gone. We're done here."

"Yeah." Lindy agrees, knowing she means something different. She glances around, trying not to let the image of an intruder taint all the memories she's made here. It's a goodbye, but she's starting to get good at those.

"Ready to go?" He's looking at her again, like she's fragile. Like she hasn't spent the past few weeks losing lovers and being watched. Like she's a victim. I'm not. I'm not, I'm not, I'm- "Lindy?" he pulls her out of her head.

"Yeah." She says again. "Yeah, I'm good. She walks to the door, glancing backward. She'll have to come back to get the rest of her things, but she doesn't live here anymore. For some reason she finds it freeing. Ever since Ben was killed she's felt that presence here, like a shadow. Maybe it's time to move on.

Lindy wakes up in a very strong, very warm pair of arms. She opens one eye and catches a glimpse of a familiar stubbled chin and a slice of night sky. Still exhausted, she lets her eye fall closed again, leaning her head against Tommy's chest.

"You're not the brawny paper towel guy." She mumbles into his shirt. She can feel the vibrations of his laughter against her cheek.

"Is that who all those noises were for? I thought you'd at least be dreaming about someone three-dimensional." Even his voice reverberates through her as he speaks, and she finds it's not an unpleasant sensation.

"I wasn't making noises." She protests, her argument weakened a little by the slur in her words. She hadn't realized just how tired she was until now. Her dad used to say that she could stay awake for days, but the second she was somewhere she felt safe she would curl up and sleep for just as long. Safe is as good a word as any to describe how she feels now, the gentle sway of Tommy's steps lulling her back to sleep. There's a click as he opens his front door, and the sound of Boris hurrying over to meet them. "My bags." She manages to get the words out, and to make them relatively clear.

"I brought them in with Boris. I went back for you." She likes the way that sounds, although she doesn't know why. I went back for you. Forcing her eyes open, Lindy spots her suitcases leaning against the wall.

"Couch." She points weakly, but he snorts, already moving towards the bedroom.

"Nice try. The furniture for the spare room will come tomorrow, but until then you're sleeping here." He sets her down gently, she curls up as the cold air rushes in to replace his arms. She reaches down to grab the comforter, cold from shock and from fatigue. Something tugs on her foot, and she looks down to see Tommy pulling off her boots. The smile that stretches across her lips feels sweet, and for the first time since her apartment a little peace comes back to her.

As she presses her face into the pillow, Tommy tucking her in like a toddler, Lindy decides her father was wrong. It's not safety that lets sleep creep into her veins now, dulling the world as her eyes flutter shut. It's home. And somehow here, in a place she doesn't really belong at all, she's found home for the first time in years.

A/N: Okay, so there's that. I hope you guys are still with me, and that you're still enjoying this. I have a lot more ideas for the next couple chapters, and I'm eager to get them up. However; I have a seriously heavy two weeks coming up in school, and that will probably mean no more updates for a week or so. It's possible I'll blow off studying entirely and continue to update every few days, but this is a heads up. I promise I, and the story, will be back in about a week. Until then please read, review, and I'll see you after the next episode airs!


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Okay, so. That chapter kind of went all over because I've had a week to think of things I wanted to add. The next chapter might be a little shorter, but it will also involve some drunk getting to know you scenes so hopefully you guys won't mind. I love reading your reviews, thank you so much to those who have left some. And thank you for being patient with me during midterms, I hope you think it was worth it.**

"Tommy." He groans, rolling over to shove his face into the pillow. "Tommy." The voice is persistent, but so is he. He tries to block it out. "TOMMY!" A tiny hand whacks him hard on the back, and he props himself up to glare at his assailant. Lindy glares back.

"Go away." He narrows his eyes at her. She shakes her head. She looks like she's just rolled out of bed, and from the pink light barely creeping in through the window he knows it's early.

"There's someone here. Some furniture guy, he needs you to sign." She folds her arms across her chest. He flops back down on the pull-out mattress.

"You do it." He hasn't been this tired in ages, and the idea of getting out of this warm bed and putting his feet on the always freezing hardwood is entirely unappealing. The silence that follows only tells him that she's not moving, and he doesn't have to turn his head to know exactly what look she's giving him. How he managed to sleep through the doorbell from his spot on the couch he's not sure, but he has no intention of moving. Lindy huffs irritably.

"No, he needs _your_ signature."

"So sign for me."

"That's illegal."

"That's never stopped you before."

"Aren't you supposed to be a cop?"

He groans and shoves his face back into the blankets.

"Not at 7:30 on a Saturday." Finally, he hears the floorboards creaking as she leaves, and buries his face in the pillow. There are voices, hers and a male one, and then he hears the door close.

"It's the bed." She tells him. He ignores her. Later he'll be eager to set that up and get his own back, but for now this couch is as good a bed as any. Or it would be, if Lindy would just leave him alone. The quiet holds for a minute or two, and he starts to drift off again. Just as he can feel himself slipping happily back into sleep, the cot dips, and he sighs.

"What?" He knows Lindy is perched beside him, staring, and fights the urge to hit her with one of the couch cushions until she leaves. But even with his eyes closed he can tell that she's hovering for a reason, so he just waits.

"I think Boris needs to go out."

He rolls over, frowning at her. It takes a moment for her words to sink in, then he sweeps his eyes over the apartment for his dog.

"Where is he?"

"He's on my bed. I mean, your bed. He slept with me." Tommy stares at her, deciding not to mention that Boris usually refuses to take treats from strangers, let alone spend the entire night curled up at their feet. He's brought a few girls home over the years, but Boris always chose to sleep on the couch when they were over, something which he had been grateful for at the time. Now Tommy was just trying not to read too much into the fact that his dog had apparently deemed Lindy worthy of sharing their apartment.

"Okay." He tosses the blankets aside, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "I'll take him." He's practically naked due to his habit of sleeping in a pair of boxer-briefs, and he doesn't miss the way Lindy's eyes slide over him as he reaches for the pair of jeans folded on the floor. She looks away.

"I could take him. I kind of wanted to go for a walk anyways."

He looks up, hesitates. It's a little early to start an argument, but he squares up for one anyways.

"I don't know how to say this without pissing you off but-"

"You're not going to let me go outside by myself are you?"

He shakes his head. She groans.

"Tommy-"

"Look, it's not up for debate. I know it's annoying, but this creep is everywhere and I just can't take that chance okay?" She blinks at him. He clears his throat. "Uh, _we _can't take that chance."

She keeps staring at him so he tugs his jeans on and avoids making eye contact. He whistles, and Boris comes skidding down the hall, eyes bright as though he already knows where they're headed.

Tommy bends down to rub Boris' head, smiling at the little whine of contentment. He straightens up, making his way to the bedroom to grab a shirt. A minute later he emerges wearing a hoodie and one of the t-shirts Lindy picked out, raising an eyebrow when she glares at him from the cot, arms crossed angrily over her chest.

"You coming?" He asks. Once again, she's not wearing any pants, and he's spent the past few minutes very pointedly keeping his gaze above her neck. He wonders briefly how hypocritical it would be to ask her to start wearing pajamas. She disappears into the bedroom to get her own change of clothes, and Tommy glances down at Boris. "She's something huh?" Boris just wags his tail, Tommy takes that as agreement.

An hour later they're in the park, Lindy and Boris wandering around socializing while Tommy trails behind. It only took five minutes for her to snatch the leash out of his hand, and he's getting the impression that woman and dog have already become fast friends. There is something so easy about it all, the way her shoulder bumps against his arm every time a jogger goes by, the way she silences Boris' overexcited barking with just a look, the way his pace slows automatically to match her tiny steps. Even the chatter, about her job, about apartment hunting, it's like there's no learning curve to being together. They get along in that way partners do, fighting about everything while simultaneously being so in sync it unnerves him a little.

He watches them for a while, only tensing up a little every time a stranger approaches, and curses himself internally as he feels his crush, feelings, whatever it is, settle in a little deeper.

"Lindy." He calls out, not liking how close the guy she's talking to has come. Whether it's a protective instinct or just jealousy he doesn't know, and doesn't particularly care. She looks back at him, frowning. He closes the distance between them, smiling politely at the spandex-clad douchebag who's been staring down Lindy's shirt for the past five minutes. "Hi." The man glances uncertainly between Tommy and Lindy.

"Hi. I should uh, get going. It was nice to meet you, Lindy." He gives her what Tommy is sure he's been told is a charming smile, and then turns on his heel and jogs away. Tommy rolls his eyes.

"What was that about?" Lindy asks, eyeing him suspiciously. He shrugs innocently. "You've been ignoring me for the past half hour and then the second some guy talks to me you come running over?"

"I wasn't ignoring you. And do I need to remind you that you're being stalked by a serial killer?"

She scoffs.

"You think that guy was the flirtual killer?" She squares her hands on her hips and squints at him. He sighs.

"No." Lindy rolls her eyes. "But he was staring at your boobs."

"So?"

Frustrated, Tommy runs a hand over his hair. He knows Lindy can take care of herself, but his instinct will always be to protect her. It obviously irritates her, but at this point he's not sure he cares.

"Never mind. We should head back. I don't want to miss all my furniture." He turns away, starts home. After a few seconds he hears her footsteps pick up, and then she's falling into step beside him.

"I really don't need you to worry about me all the time." She tells him. He suppresses the urge to laugh.

"Yeah." He concedes, he knows how she is, but he also knows what she's up against. "I'm probably going to anyways though." He says it unapologetically, and she's quiet for a moment. He lets her think that over, both of them watching Boris pad along happily in front of them.

"Fine." She says finally. And that's that.

"Tommy!" He can hear Lindy yelling over the hiss of the shower, sticking his head out to catch what she's saying. There's a knock on the bathroom door, and he sighs.

"What?"

"The couch is here."

He rolls his eyes.

"I'm a little busy." He mutters. There's laughter from the other side of the door, and he shuts off the water with a growl. He wraps a towel around himself, throwing the door open with a little more force than necessary. "Seriously?" He glares at her. She grins.

"It's too heavy for me." She shrugs. He walks around the corner and finds the new couch sitting perfectly in place, exactly where the old one was a few minutes ago. Swearing, he turns around to tell her off for pulling him out of the shower for no reason, but she's gone.

"Wha-" The click of the bathroom door draws him down the hallway, and by the time he makes it back he can hear the shower turning on again. He groans. "You couldn't have just waited for me to finish?" He asks through the door. The same laugh from earlier is nearly drowned out by the sound of running water. His irritation can't compete with his amusement, and he's glad she can't see the grin spreading across his face. Shaking his head, he goes to the bedroom to get dressed.

It was only nine when they got back from their walk, and Tommy is certain he'll spend the rest of the day intercepting furniture deliveries and setting up his apartment. He throws on a fresh pair of jeans and a flannel, collapsing face first onto his bed. Between all the stress and constantly being woken up at all hours, he's exhausted. He takes a deep breath, and with it comes a rush of the familiar honey and lemon scent that seems to linger wherever Lindy goes. It occurs to him that his whole bed probably smells like her, and he groans. He can wash his sheets, but that smell is now permanently imprinted on his brain, and it's doing things to his body that he isn't entirely proud of. There's a noise behind him, and he rolls onto his back, watching Lindy rifle through her suitcase. Her towel rides up, and he forces himself to look away. He's starting to feel like a pervert.

"Have you seen my-oh. Never mind." She holds up a bundle of clothes and cocks her head, frowning at him. "Are you okay?" He nods.

"I'm just tired. _Somebody _woke me up at 7:30." He gives her a pointed look. She smiles, and he tells himself that smile doesn't own him, but even in his head it doesn't sound convincing.

"Right. You're the one who ordered expedited delivery on everything, I don't see how this is my fault." She sticks her tongue out at him before retreating to the bathroom to change. She has a point, but there's no way he's admitting that now. When she finally comes back out, he's in the kitchen.

"That smells good." She leans over his shoulder to sniff at the omelette, and he thinks silently that she smells better. "You gonna share?"

He points with the spatula to the kitchen island, a plated omelette and glass of orange juice already waiting for her. She makes a noise of surprise, but ambles over and cuts off a bite before shoving it into her mouth.

"Oh my god." She swallows, a look of pure bliss settling over her features. "This is-wow." She takes another bite, chewing thoughtfully. "I didn't know you could cook."

"How would you?" He wonders aloud, flipping his own omelette out of the pan. He turns off the burner and carries his plate over to sit next to Lindy, who hums happily as she continues to eat. She looks adorable like that, legs folded on the chair, cheeks still pink from the shower. "Although," he adds, "after those muffins you brought into the unit I'm guessing your standard is kind of low." She glares at him.

"They weren't that bad! Yeager ate two!"

"They were terrible, Yeager was just being nice." He digs into his breakfast, not realizing how hungry he had been. It's finished in a matter of minutes, and he gulps down the orange juice. Lindy finishes hers at the same time, then stands up, grabbing both their plates and dropping them into the dishwasher.

"Well, I never really had anyone to cook for." She seems to be thinking out loud. There's no real sadness in her words, and her mind is somewhere else, so he lets it go. Lindy wanders over to the stove, grabbing the pan and the bowl he used for cooking and carrying them over to the sink. He considers telling her to leave the dishes, but he knows her well enough to let her be useful. If he's going to keep her from going stir crazy he has to let her do things for herself. She's not a guest here, not really.

"I'm going to start putting that bedframe together." He stands up, grabbing a spare bit of sausage from the omelettes and tossing it to Boris. She nods at him, squirting some dish soap into the sink.

They spend the rest of the day putting bedframes and tables together, Lindy helping him in between answering the door. Somehow he's not surprised when she accidentally builds the nightstand for the guest room upside down, and he sends her away to order dinner when she tries to help with the entertainment unit. At about eight everything is done, and he wanders around his apartment appreciating what it looks like fully furnished. He'd almost forgotten what is was like to not have an echo.

"What'd you order?" He asks, coming around the corner to see Lindy hanging up her phone.

"Pizza. I haven't been to Anton's in a while and I had a craving."

His mouth waters at the thought of it, Anton makes the best pizza in the city, and in New York that's really saying something.

"House special?" He asks hopefully. She nods. At least they agree on one thing. "I could use a drink. It'll probably be half an hour before that pizza gets here, what do you say we make a beer run?"

They grab their coats, Tommy tossing her a scarf when she refuses to put on anything heavier than a leather jacket, and brace themselves against the cold. The mornings have been mild, but winter seems to make itself known at night, the wind biting into their skin like a knife. His nose is already completely frozen by the time they make it to the car, and he cranks the heat to high before the key is even in the ignition. Lindy's shivering beside him, and he flips her seatwarmer on.

"God." Her teeth chatter so much in that one syllable he can barely understand it. The heat kicks in as he pulls away from the curb, and they both let out a sigh of relief.

"We should-" He's cut off as her phone rings, and she shoots him an apologetic glance before answering.

"Hi. Yeah, I did. Oh. Oh no! Okay, no worries. Bye." She hangs up with a sigh, and Tommy waits for her to tell him. "That was Anton's. They had a fire, just a small one, but they have to close early."

"Is everyone okay?" Tommy isn't particularly upset about the pizza, but he's been going there for years and knows most of the staff.

"Yeah, no one was hurt. But I guess that means no pizza."

He glances over at her, thoughtful.

"Why don't we just grab something to eat at Donovan's?" The pub has been an institution in his neighborhood for years. It's Saturday night and he's sure it will be busy, but he can get them in. Being a cop has its perks. She makes a hum of agreement and he takes the next turn.

They pull up outside of the pub, the noise spilling out into the street already. At the door he's greeted with a handshake and a smile, and they cut through the line without looking back. The lights are low as usual, a live band up on stage pumping out a Celtic jig. It's more packed in here than out front, a sea of jeans and heels and flannel. A waitress he knows by name sets them up at a table in the corner, and she hands them each a menu with an apologetic smile.

"It's pretty busy in here tonight, hon. If you want drinks your best bet is to go straight through Andy." She gestures at the ponytailed bartender behind her. "But if you want to order food now I can get that going." Tommy opens his mouth to order, but Lindy cuts him off.

"We'll get two house burgers, one with no pickle and extra cheese." She plucks the menu out of his hand and passes them both to the waitress. "And some nachos." She adds as an afterthought. Stacy nods and disappears back into the crow, leaving Tommy to stare at Lindy in surprise. "What? Did you want extra cheese too?"

"You're ordering for me now?" He asks, amused, and a little charmed. At this point she could probably get away with murder just by flashing him that fatal smile.

"Well it was either that or wait forty-five minutes for a basket of chicken wings. And don't act like you weren't about to do the same thing." She shrugs off her jacket, and his scarf, and hangs them both on the back of her chair.

"How did you know I was going to get a burger?"

"Everyone gets burgers here. Except the tourists." She leans back in her chair. There's a feeling rising in Tommy's chest, something like fear. He knows he's too close to this, to her. He's a cop, he's supposed to be protecting her, not falling in love with her, and he can't do both. What happened to Ben is just proof of that. Love is distracting, it's paralyzing, and he can't afford it, especially not with Lindy in constant danger. But it has suddenly become painfully clear that it's too late, he's in too deep. He's in love with her, just like that.

Tommy grabs their first round, uncomfortable leaving Lindy alone even for the ten minutes it takes to grab them a couple drinks. But he comes back to find her sitting exactly how she was when he left, a little bored, fidgeting with her phone.

"Here." He slides her the gin and tonic, and she smiles.

"Thanks." She squeezes the lime, stirring her drink absently.

Their burgers come, and she's quiet as they eat. When he finishes his she's barely half done.

"Okay, what's going on?"

"Nothing." She says, a little too quickly. He raises his eyebrows. "I just… Why are you letting me stay with you?"

He opens his mouth to answer, then pauses. Whatever he thought was on her mind, it wasn't that.

"I don't know. I guess because I thought you'd be safer with me." It's the truth, or part of it.

"You feel responsible for me. Because Ben was your friend." It's not really an accusation, but it sounds like one. Something is wrong here, but he can't put his finger on it.

"No. I mean yeah, but I don't worry about you because I feel like I owe it to Ben. I worry about you because I care about you, because we're…friends." He finds he wants to use another word, a different word, but none of them feel honest. He sticks with friends. She looks at him doubtfully.

"Are we? Friends?"

"Aren't we?" He asks, now a little uncertain. She sighs.

"Tommy, all I really know about you is that you're a cop, you have a dog named Boris, and you own enough leather jackets to start your own Member's Only store. For all I know you could be the killer." She's joking, and he knows he should laugh, but he doesn't find any of this funny.

"Lindy-"

"I could use another drink." She moves to stand, but he grabs her glass.

"I'll get it."

He needs a minute to clear his head anyways, a bit of space to figure out what's really going on with her. He flags down the bartender, now wishing he wasn't driving so he could grab a second drink as well. As he's waiting for Lindy's drink he turns, and makes eye contact with a very familiar blonde. _Shit_.

"Tommy?" She's wasted. He knows this is bad, but at this point there's nothing to do but face it head on.

"Hey, Sasha." He nods at her. She grabs the hand of the girl next to her and makes a beeline for him.

"Dana, this is Tommy." It's barely ten and she's already slurring her words, eyes glazed. He's not surprised, but it still causes a pang of regret in his chest. _It's not your fault_. He's not sure he believes that.

"Hi." Dana holds out a hand. She's in far better shape than Sasha, though at this point that's not saying much. Tommy takes her hand, wishing the bartender would hurry up.

"This is Ben's old partner. The one who was supposed to have his back the night he got killed." Sasha says, her voice a little loud even in the din of the crowd. Two guys standing beside them glance over in interest. Tommy sighs. Dana just looks between them, obviously uncomfortable.

"Sash, we should go." She nudges her friend. Sasha stands her ground.

"No, you should go." She presses her finger into Tommy's chest, having to rise onto her toes to reach. She's always been short, Tommy remembers the summers he used to spend at Ben's cabin and how they would hide all of Sasha's clothes out in the boat house where she couldn't reach. The memory hurts a little more than usual.

"Sasha-"

"Don't!" She's tearful now, her voice raised well above polite, and they're now drawing interest from all over the pub. "You were supposed to protect him! You promised me, and you lied, you got my brother killed and you're still standing here like-" She falls silent mid-sentence as Lindy appears, arms crossed and fire in her eyes. Tommy gets a very bad feeling.

"You!" Sasha spits, so vehemently that she stumbles forward. Lindy steadies her, hand falling away as the angry blonde bristles.

"Yeah, me. Look, Sasha, I know you're angry about what happened to Ben, but it wasn't Tommy's fault." Lindy says slowly, and Tommy gets the sense she's been watching the whole time.

"You're right." Sasha nods. "It's yours. None of this would have happened if you'd stayed away from him. You're a criminal, and a slut, and you should never have looked back once you found out-" Her eyes are bright now, sparkling with some kind of buried rage that has Tommy stepping in between the girls.

"That's enough." He tries to push Lindy back, but she doesn't budge.

"No, she's right. I put Ben in danger, and he's dead because of me. I'm sorry, Sasha." There's a heaviness in Lindy's voice that physically pains him, she believes what she's saying and that's almost more than he can take. "I can't fix it, I can't take it back and I wish I could. I would do anything to change it, to do that night over. But I can't. So if you're going to blame someone, blame me." Lindy grabs the drink that Tommy had forgotten about, downs it in one breath, and turns to leave. Before she can take a step Sasha launches herself forward, and if it wasn't for the sound of breaking glass Tommy wouldn't even have realized what was happening.

"Sasha, no!" But it's too late, and the shards of glass rain onto the floor, Lindy swaying on her feet as Sasha stares in shock at the ribbons of crimson decorating her hands. Tommy is there in a flash, holding Lindy up as she staggers, and he shoots Dana a look. "Get her cleaned up." He orders, and she nods, tugging on Sasha's arm until the two disappear around the bar. A crowd has gathered, and Stacy comes running over, a cloth in her hand. She passes it to Tommy, who presses it against the gash on Lindy's head.

"Tommy." Her voice is small, he's never heard her so defeated, and all he wants to do is take her home. "I wanna go." She says quietly. She doesn't seem to be in too much pain, but eventually the shock will wear off. He steers her to their table, setting her down gently on the chair.

"I know. We should take you to the hospital first." He lifts the cloth from her head, wincing when a fresh stream of blood gushes down her forehead. "This is bleeding pretty good." He searches her face for signs of a concussion, but her eyes are focused, if a little wide, and so far she seems responsive.

"I'm fine. I just want to get out of here. People are staring." Her voice is firmer now, and he doesn't bother to look behind them to see if she's right.

"I know you're fine, you're always fine. But this probably needs stitches and trust me, you don't want me doing them." He dabs at the cut and she hisses. "What's your name?" She blinks. "I'm trying to make sure you don't have a concussion."

"Melinda Sampson." The steel in her eyes dares him to laugh. He manages to swallow it.

"Okay _Melinda_, where are we?"

"At Donovan's, where we ran into my dead boyfriend's sister who accused both of us of killing her brother and then smashed a glass on my head." She looks heartbreaking like this, her eyes wide and trailing over his face like she's looking for something. He can't say what.

"Okay." He sighs. "Can you walk?" She shoots him an impatient look before hopping to her feet. She seems steady enough, so he grabs both of their coats and throws a couple tens on the table. Part of him is afraid they'll run into Sasha again on the way out, but she's nowhere to be seen and they make it safely to the car without incident.

"You're taking me to the hospital aren't you?" She asks a few minutes later. He nods, eyes on the road.

"You need stitches, you want that to scar?" He asks, though immediately realizes that she probably wouldn't care. She groans.

"What I want is to grab a twelve-pack and go home and get drunk." She says. He tries to tell himself that there are more important things going on than her calling his place home. He half-way succeeds.

"Okay, well we can do that after. It won't take that long, they don't like to keep cops waiting."

She just stares out the window.

"What did I tell you?" He asks as they emerge from the ER, the bandage on her head not softening the look of pure fire that she sends his way. "Twenty minutes in and out. And you don't have a concussion, so we can grab that six pack."

"Twelve-pack." She corrects him. He grins.

"Alright."


	6. Chapter 6

"So are we going to talk about it?"

"Talk about what?" Lindy's on her third beer, and added to the two drinks she had at Donovan's she has a pretty good buzz going. She peers at Tommy, eyes slanted. She knows what he's talking about, but it's a topic she wants to avoid.

"I'll take that as a no." He rolls his eyes at her, finishing the last of his own drink.

"There's not really anything to say." She reminds him. It's true. They can relive the night if he wants to, she certainly doesn't, but it won't accomplish anything. Ben's sister will still hate her, Ben will still be dead, and Lindy will still have eight stitches in her head.

"There is if you're walking around blaming yourself for Ben's death."

She groans.

"Tommy. I don't want to talk about this anymore. You promised to get me drunk and this does not seem to be going in that direction."

"Fine."

They drink in silence for a few minutes, and as the quiet stretches on they seem to settle into one another, Lindy throwing her legs over his, leaning back. He reaches over to prop a few pillows under her head, which is still sore. She turned down the painkillers in favour of alcohol, and she's starting to regret it.

"So, Melinda." He says. A pillow goes sailing by his head, missing by barely an inch. His face turns serious. "Did you mean what you said?" Clearly he isn't going to let this go.

"Tommy-"

"Not about Ben. About me." She frowns.

"Which part?"

"About not knowing me. About me being the killer." He's not looking at her, and something inside her, that wall that she's been trying so hard to put up all night, crumbles.

"I don't think you're the killer, if that's what you're asking. Unless you're confessing." She quirks an eyebrow. He doesn't smile. "I mean, I _don't_ know you. Not really." He looks thoughtful. His hand reaches down, grabbing them both a new beer from the cooler beside the couch. He throws her one.

"What do you want to know?" He asks. She pauses.

"I… what's your middle name?" He smirks.

"James. Thomas James Calligan." He can tell she was hoping for something embarrassing.

"When's your birthday?"

Tommy takes a swig of his beer, shakes his head.

"Mmm, no. My turn. Favourite food."

"Pizza. Favourite colour?"

"Blue. First album you ever bought?"

"Blink-182. I like blue on you." She says. It's a slip, one she'll later blame on the alcohol. He grins. She knows he thinks she isn't really here, that he's just a temporary place to land for her. She also knows that's her fault. That line about not being friends, it was a lie. But all tonight has done is remind her that everyone who gets close to her ends up hurt, and the closer she gets to Tommy the more afraid for him she becomes. He's all she really has left. If keeping him at arms-length would keep him safe she had been willing to try that. Until now. She thought she could do it, thought she could ignore the hurt in his eyes every time she downplayed how much he meant to her. She was wrong.

He's smiling now, mirth where sorrow had been moments before. She's weak, she knows, but he's happy and that will have to do for now.

"Best scar story?" She prompts, and just like that there's no going back. She's sticking with him now, for better or for worse.

The entire case of beer and half a bottle of whiskey later, they're both completely hammered.

"It's late." She hiccups. He snickers.

"It's Saturday."

"Oh." She ponders this. "What…. Wait. Whose turn is it?" Her words slur together, but he seems to catch most of it.

"I think," He squints. "Mine." Lindy narrows her eyes, she's pretty sure he's lying, he just doesn't want to answer any more questions, but she lets it slide.

"So go." She pokes his chest. As the night has progressed they slowly moved in closer, and they're now just a tangle of limbs and flushed cheeks.

"Okay. What?" He cranes his neck to look down at her. She snorts.

"You're drunk."

"We're both drunk." He corrects. Without warning, he stands, sweeping her into his arms. She makes a face at the swaying movement as he walks.

"Oh. I don't like this." Her stomach rolls traitorously as they round the corner, calming a little when he sets her down on the guest bed.

"Better?" He asks, she nods. He turns to go, and her hand snakes out, almost automatically.

"Wait." Even with all the liquor running through her veins she knows she should let him go. She pictures him like Ben, head down, throat cut, everything that made him Tommy dripping dully onto the pavement. She tells herself she needs to protect him. But her fingers stay clasped firmly around his wrist.

"Yeah?" He asks, waiting. He wouldn't expect her to ask him to stay, not even now, not like this.

"Stay."

He doesn't hesitate, even for a second. His hand fumbles against the wall, the lights flicking off after a minute, and then he's beside her. She pulls off her shoes, hears him do the same. She tugs off her jeans without a second thought, diving under the covers with a sigh. After a few seconds he slides in beside her, backs touching as they nestle under the covers. More than anything, Lindy wants to roll over and throw her arms around his chest, pressing her face into his back. But she doesn't. She's already being selfish enough.

"Night." She whispers, trying to press a few of the memories from tonight into a place she gets to keep them. It feels like most of this will turn to white noise in the morning, and she suddenly wishes she hadn't drank so much.

"Night." He mutters. She's painfully aware of him there, her skin tingling every time he shifts against her. Somehow she manages to fall asleep anyways, her breathing evening out to mirror his. He brings a peace with him that she's never really felt before, and despite the throbbing in her head she drifts off with a smile on her face.

Tommy doesn't get hungover. It's a special talent he discovered in college, prompting some rude remarks and a lot of morning McDonald's runs from his less fortunate party buddies. As he gets older the morning-afters have gotten a little tougher, but even now he wakes with little more than a headache and the vague sensation of sand in his mouth. He's comfortable, almost a little too comfortable, and when he yawns into a full head of hair it suddenly becomes clear as to why. He's pressed up against Lindy, her back flush against his torso, their legs tangled together in a knot of soft skin and heat. One of his arms is curled possessively around her stomach, which is bare, the other is trapped under her pillow. He takes a moment to enjoy it, the way she feels there, the way she fits. He can't imagine that she won't regret this, they both had too much to drink last night and she's always so careful to keep a safe distance. But there doesn't seem to be any way to detangle himself without waking her up. He carefully tries to tug his hand free, but the pillow jerks along with it, and she startles awake with a gasp.

He freezes, waiting for the regret, waiting for her to crawl awkwardly out of bed, waiting for the _this never happened._ It doesn't come. Instead, she groans, a painful noise that tells him clearly she's feeling every bit of the hangover he doesn't have. She wrenches the blanket over her eyes, elbowing him in the stomach.

"Close the curtains." Her voice is rough with sleep, but carries no trace of remorse. He does as he's told, hesitating at the window after pulling the curtains shut. A quick glance at the bed tells him Lindy's already fallen back asleep, and he resists the urge to crawl back in beside her, turning towards the bathroom instead.

The shower clears away any residual drunkenness, but he can't wash off the feeling of Lindy's skin against his. It lingers on his fingers, his thighs, his chest. A ghost of her remains in every place he touched her, and he knows it will be days before they go away.

He towels off and heads for his room, glad to finally have a little privacy when it takes him a few minutes to distract his body enough to be able to comfortably put his jeans on. Boris wakes up from his spot on Tommy's bed, following him out into the kitchen. It seems like a good morning for French Toast, it's always been his go-to hangover breakfast at any rate, and he grabs a couple eggs and some milk, glad for something routine to take his mind off the events of the night before. About ten minutes later he hears the shower turn on again. Boris paces around him irritably, and Tommy silently hopes Lindy will be up for another walk, because he can't say he likes the idea of leaving her home alone. At some point they'll have to figure this out, he can't babysit her forever and she would probably kill him if he tried, but there are real concerns under his admittedly excessive protectiveness. The killer seems to come and go from Lindy's apartment whenever they like, and Tommy doesn't have any reason to believe his own place will be any different.

When Lindy finally comes shuffling into the kitchen he has to suppress a laugh. She looks entirely unimpressed, the green tinge to her face and the bandage covering half of her forehead only adding to the effect. Her eyes slide over Tommy, taking in his appearance with a scowl.

"Why do you look like that?" Her voice is low, and he imagines it's due to the pounding in her head. He takes the hint, matching her volume.

"Like what?"

"Like, normal. You're smiling. Why?"

He snorts, grabbing the pan off the stove and shoving a small piece of toast towards her. She gives the plate a hostile look before pushing it away.

"I don't really get hungover. You should eat though, it will help." He pushes the plate back in her direction, holding out a fork with his other hand. She takes it grudgingly, poking mulishly at her food. Tommy reaches into the cupboard, grabbing a glass and a bottle of advil. He grabs the carton of coconut water from his fridge and pours some into the glass, then drops the drink and the pills in front of Lindy. These she takes gratefully, downing two tablets but sipping distastefully at the water.

"This is gross." She makes a face. He shrugs.

"It's better than Gatorade, less sugar. Best thing for a hangover though, so drink up." She does as she's told, but not without some dramatic flair. The face she pulls has him spitting out his own drink, and he coughs as water sprays everywhere.

"Ew." She grabs a handful of napkins and dabs at the now very wet countertop.

"That was your fault." He mutters, patting his shirt with a dishtowel. She sighs. "Are you up for a walk with me and Boris? I'm not even sure he'll go without you at this point." They both glance down at the dog, who's sitting upright with his head resting in Lindy's lap. She smiles.

"Yeah." Her gaze flickers back up to him, and she rubs her temple painfully. "I can't believe you let me drink so much."

He almost spits again, choking down the bite of French toast while shaking his head incredulously.

"Okay." He splutters, knowing better than to let himself get sucked into her argument.

"You're a bad influence." She tells him. He laughs so hard that tears form in his eyes. She narrows hers at him. "What?"

"Lindy, you're an illegal hacker. If anyone is a bad influence here it's you. Besides, I told you to slow down like eight times last night, turns out you don't listen to me when you're drunk either." He grabs her plate, giving her an approving kind of pat on the head when he sees that she finished her breakfast, then tosses the dishes in the dishwasher. She just continues to glare at him, absently scratching the top of Boris' head.

"Well… it was a stressful night." She muses. He softens.

"Yeah." He knows her well enough to know that she doesn't actually want to talk about it. "You should get dressed." He nods toward her bare legs, the silk pajama shorts she's wearing hardly an improvement from her usual pantless state in the mornings. Boris whines as she gets up, and follows her as she turns towards the hallway. Before she rounds the corner, she looks back. Tommy watches her from where he leans against the counter. Those seconds of silence are loaded, and he knows she feels it too.

"I just want you to know, we're good." She tells him. The charge in the air shifts, becomes a little less tense, but doesn't fade completely.

"Okay." He says. She nods, then disappears around the corner. He lets out a long breath, smoothing back his hair with an unsteady hand. He isn't entirely sure where this leaves them, doesn't know exactly what good means at this point, but it's enough for now. Maybe one day good will involve them waking up together every morning, no alcohol required. Maybe it could look like him getting back into bed after closing the curtains, Lindy rolling back into him automatically, the electricity that sparked every time he touched her still there, just a little more familiar. Maybe he wouldn't be alone in whatever this is, this one-sided wanting that makes his chest ache and his pulse jump. A life with Lindy, a real one. For the first time, it doesn't seem so impossible.

**A/N: So a little shorter, but also a little fluffier. I think next week we'll return to the plot a bit. Sound good?**


	7. Chapter 7

"Don't you have to work?" Lindy asks irritably, sipping her coffee from her perch at the kitchen island. Tommy can feel her eyes on him as he slides some bacon onto a plate, passing it to her. He shakes his head.

"Cop schedule. Four days on, four days off. I go back tomorrow." He watches her shove a piece of bacon into her mouth, lips quirking when she lets out a hiss of pain as the searing hot meat burns her mouth. She catches him smiling and lets out an angry huff.

"Must be nice." She mutters, gulping down the glass of water in front of her.

"Well, I work ten hour days. And speaking of, aren't you late?" He asks. She glances at the clock, letting out a string of profanities that makes him choke on his own glass of water.

"Shit." She skids down the hallway, returning seconds later with a scarf dangling haphazardly from her neck and a boot in each hand. He sighs.

"I can take you." She looks up.

"You don't have to do that." He just rolls his eyes, swiping the keys from their hook by the door.

"Come on." He nudges her out into the hallway. They pull up in front of her work with almost ten minutes to spare. As Lindy undoes her seatbelt Tommy pretends he doesn't feel a pang of anxiety at leaving her unprotected. She can't stop living her life, he knows that, but it doesn't mean he won't worry about her. She turns to look at him, the smile on her face faltering when she catches sight of his expression. He tries to smile, but it's too late.

"What?" She asks. He shakes his head.

"It's nothing. Just thinking about some stuff I have to get done today." Maybe he'll stop by the unit, just to check in on the flirtual investigation. The idea of going another 24 hours without contributing something to that case makes his eye twitch. He shouldn't have forgotten why Lindy was staying with him in the first place, and he suddenly feels guilty for enjoying their time together so much. He should be fixing this, letting her get back to her life. Instead he's playing house and letting her killer roam free. It's time to get back to work.

"Why don't I believe you?" She eyes him suspiciously. He shrugs.

"Don't you have work to do?" He reminds her. Lindy isn't so easily distracted.

"I know that you're only stuck babysitting me because it's your job," She starts, and he almost laughs at how backwards that sounds now. The last thing he sees her as is a duty, a case number. But he lets her finish. "But you can talk to me."

"I know." He nods. He's sure he could tell her anything. But she has more than enough going on, and he has no desire to add to her stress load. "Now, go. And Lindy?"

She glances back at him, already halfway out of the car.

"Yeah?"

"Just…be careful." She really does smile this time, and it hits him like a punch to the gut. God she's beautiful.

"Oh, detective. I'm always careful." Her smirk as she shuts the door will stay with him for the rest of the day, he knows it. He also decides that he likes being called detective by her, maybe a little too much.

He goes straight to the Cyber Crimes unit from there, ignoring the look Catherine gives him as he pushes through the glass doors.

"You're not supposed to be here today."

He shrugs.

"I had some free time, wanted to check up on the case." His sergeant gives him a knowing look.

"Detective, we've been through this once with Bubonic." The concern in her voice is obvious. "I don't want to see that happen again." Tommy comes to a sharp halt, staring squarely down at her.

"All due respect sergeant, but this isn't like that." His voice is firm, a little louder than he meant to be. She gives him an appraising look.

"Oh really?" She folds her arms across her chest. "Then what _is _it like? Because it looks like you coming in on your day off to check on Lindy's case. Lindy, who also happens to be living with you if what detective Yeager tells me is true. It _looks _like you're making this personal. And we both know what happens next." She looks angry, not energetically so, but the cool disapproval is more than enough to have his hackles rising.

"This is _not_ that. I know what you did, Sergeant, and I'm not planning on making the same mistake." All deference gone, he squares off against her. She regards him with the kind of resignation worn by the parents of kids who are too far gone. He tries to let that go.

"Fine. I hope you know what you're doing." She finally replies, leaving a chill in her wake as walks away. The tension lingers, and he rolls his shoulders as he makes his way to his desk, trying to shake it off. A few hours go by at that desk, his eyes darting between the folders open beside him and the unending blur of documents and photos on his computer screen. The fact that they can have so much information and still be miles away from any real answers never ceases to infuriate him. It's not that they don't have the information, it's that they don't know what to do with it, can't find the trails they need to follow. His fingers tap at the keys, the multiple pots of coffee in his bloodstream eliciting a matching rhythm from his foot. A school counsellor once told him that caffeine agitated the system, that drinking coffee while you were stressed would just leave you jittery and anxious. She wasn't wrong.

His phone goes off, the harsh sound of the vibration against his metal desk making him jump. He almost ignores it, his head is so deep in this case, but Lindy's face flashes at him as the ringer kicks in and he answers before it has a chance to ring twice.

"Lindy." He isn't sure why he's assuming something has happened, but his gut clenches in fear. "Are you okay?" There's an answering laugh on the other end, and he relaxes.

"I'm fine. I was just about to grab lunch, and I'm not sure what you're up to but I thought you might want to join me." Her voice is light, easy. She has this gravity around her, like the forces of the universe are conspiring to pull her down, but there are moments when she rises so far above that Tommy forgets what she's going through. Not now though. It's impossible, surrounded by the names and pictures of all these victims who could have been her. He suddenly wants to see her so badly it hurts.

"Yeah. Sure." He says, beginning to nod before remember that she can't see him. "Sounds good." They make plans to meet at her favourite food truck, he offers to pick her up but she turns him down (of course) and by the time he hangs up Tommy feels energized in a way nearly two pots of coffee couldn't touch.

He gets there first, jumping in line, because it's peak and he's hungry and also because he always feels awkward waiting around for other people. He's been shuffling along with the queue for almost ten minutes when she gets there, and he waves her over. There's a familiar look of apology on her face, but Tommy learned long ago that punctuality isn't one of Lindy's strengths.

"Hey." She sounds a little breathless, the pink on her cheeks a little too pronounced to just be from the cold. He raises his eyebrows.

"Did you run here?" She makes a face.

"Maybe. I got called in for a review at work, it took a little longer than I thought it would." She squeezes into line beside him, ignoring the indignant huffs from behind him. He smiles.

"A review? How'd that go?" She shrugs.

"It was alright. I didn't get fired or anything. George must be really good at covering for me." They're nearing the window now, and Tommy's mouth waters as the smell of beef and frying onions waft towards them. "God," Lindy moans beside, echoing his thoughts. "That smells amazing. I'm starving." She peeks at the couple in front of them, as though sizing up how much food they'll order. Tommy rolls his eyes.

A few minutes later they're seated at one of the picnic tables, and Tommy watches Lindy tear viciously into her burger with interest.

"You know," he muses, "that's really not ladylike." The gaze she fixes him with has his lips twitching even as he leans out of arms reach. She swallows.

"I told you I was hungry. I-oh no." Her eyes have focused on something behind him, and he whips around instinctively, scanning the area for potential threats.

"What? What's wrong?" He asks. A hand touches his arm lightly, and he turns back to face Lindy.

"It's okay, just some old classmates from MIT." She mutters. He relaxes. "I didn't really expect to see them again and, oh okay. They're coming over here." She groans. Something about the way her hand is resting on the table makes Tommy feel like she could take off running at any moment. There's clearly something she isn't telling him, but he doesn't have time to ask before the group is standing next to them.

"Lindy!" An absolutely tiny redhead trills, her bright blue eyes sweeping over Tommy before returning to Lindy. "Oh my god, how long has it been?" Her enthusiasm makes him cringe, and he feels a pang of sympathy as Lindy rises reluctantly to her feet. She's immediately encased in the redhead's arms, having to bend almost completely over to compensate for the height difference. Tommy knows how that feels.

"A long time." She answers, letting her arms fall to the side as she straightens up. She turns her attention to the rest of the group, and Tommy follows her gaze. There are three others, a heavyset blonde girl, an Asian guy with Bono glasses, and a black haired boy with eyelashes so long they cast a shadow across his annoying chiseled features. Lindy gives them a wave, and the blonde girl pulls her in for a hug as well. Both boys smile, but neither make a move towards her. _Good_.

"Soo." The redhead pokes Lindy's arm. "Who's this?" Her gaze falls on Tommy, who was really hoping not to be brought into this reunion. Lindy grins, and he can practically see the gears turning in her head.

"This is Tommy. Tommy, this is Rita," she points to the redhead, "Lisa, Ray, and Nick." She gestures to the blonde, Asian, and brunet in turn. He nods.

"Hi."

Rita is eyeing him in a way he's not entirely comfortable with, and he unconsciously sidles closer to Lindy. Rita seems to register that interestedly.

"We've got to get going." Nick says, his eyes still trained on Lindy's face, where they've been ever since he walked up. "But we were going to meet at Keyz later for some drinks, you should come." He seems to be pointedly ignoring Tommy. Lindy's apologetic smile makes a reappearance.

"I'm still a little hungover from Saturday." She says, and Tommy snorts, earning him a warning look from her. Rita pouts.

"Are you sure? TJ is going to be there." Lindy stiffens.

"I can't, sorry." Her smile is almost gone, stretched so tightly across her lips that Tommy half expects it to snap. The little group of friends titter their disappointment.

"Tommy is still welcome to come." Rita says. He can feel his palms beginning to sweat under her gaze.

"I-uh can't. We've got some furniture coming." He says, for once actually glad to have that as an excuse. Lindy gives him a knowing look, but keeps her mouth shut.

"Oh, too bad. Well, we'll say hi to TJ for you." Lisa speaks for the first time with a heavy English accent. There's a rumble of goodbyes as they retreat, and Lindy sits back down with a noise of relief.

"So. They seem nice." Tommy says, a little sarcastically. Lindy just stuffs a few fries in her mouth.

"They're not." Is all she says, through the mouthful of food. He waits for an explanation, but none comes.

"Okay." He knows better than to push her. They finish eating and Tommy herds her towards his car.

"I can walk, Tommy."

"I know." He says, steering her to the passenger side. She gets in, rolling her eyes. He wonders if she'll ever realize that he does this to set his own mind at ease and stop complaining. "So you're really not going to tell me what happened with those MIT kids?"

She shakes her head as he starts the car. Maybe it's just his cop intuition kicking in, but this is about something bigger than a bad break-up or a freshman prank. He wants desperately to ask, but he won't. She doesn't owe him that.

They drive in easy silence, Tommy already resenting the minute when they pull up and she once again walks away completely unprotected. He glances over at her, the faraway look in her eyes only deepening his curiosity.

"I just want you to know, we're going to catch this guy." He tells her. She looks at him, startled. He doesn't bring it up much, mostly because he's sure she doesn't need reminding. But the guilt over letting himself forget is spilling over, and he thinks this assurance is more for himself than for her. She nods.

"Yeah, I know. I mean I'm looking too. I know it's not easy. Whoever this is… he's smart." She sighs, her frustration a tangible presence in the car. Tommy suppresses the urge to reach out and touch her. Whatever he feels for her, she doesn't need any more complications in her life. He's starting to realize that.

"I'm, uh, going to head back to Cyber Crimes after I drop you off. I can pick you up when you're done, just call me." He expects her to refuse, but she doesn't.

"Okay. Thanks." The following silence is different than before. He's not sure why.

"You want to do _what_?"

"Listen, can you just come get me? I'll explain everything then." Lindy's voice, strained but determined, filters through the phone.

"Fine." He grabs his coat, shuts his computer off. He knows how she can be. Twenty minutes later they're sitting at a table in the back of a local dive bar.

"So what exactly made you think I would _ever _let you do this?" He asks. She spent the entire ride here telling him her plan, how Jake Bolin had approached her and asked for a favor, how it had lead her to the Babylon portal, how she rented a room on Virtual Slumber and her profile ended up on this Doll's House site. It sounded horrific. He was starting to reconsider letting her go to work on her own. Or anywhere for that matter.

"It's the best bet we have at catching this guy. Come on, if we don't do this he'll just disappear back into Babylon." Tommy cringes when she mentions the portal. He's looked at it and sent the link to Catherine and Yeager, both of whom were as disgusted as he was. How they could have been unaware of something as big as this he isn't sure, and it makes him very uneasy. Lindy's right, as far as this particular criminal for hire goes, this is the only feasible way to catch him. Still, it makes him incredibly uncomfortable.

"You should have come to me earlier." He's angry, and she doesn't flinch. At least she knew this was coming. "I could have put a team together, we could have vetted your witness." Lindy scoffs.

"I told you as soon as I had something solid. And you wouldn't have listened, every time I mention Jake you-" he flinches, "-make that face." She mutters. He sighs.

"Lindy, I don't want to put you at unnecessary risk. You're already in the middle of this Flirtual thing, and we have no idea what this creep wants to do with you, or what pervert paid him to do it." The hairs on the back of his neck stand up just thinking about it.

"Don't you want to catch him?"

"Of course I do." He says, affronted.

"Then this is our best shot."

He weighs that, staring unabashedly as he tries to decide whether he can live with this plan, with putting her in danger. He wants to say he can protect her, but he's still not sure what they're up against, and he can't imagine the pain of failing. He groans.

"Alright. But if we do this you let me plan everything. _Everything._" He tells her. She nods, a smile creeping onto her lips. Tommy regrets his decision almost instantly, but he knows better than to go back on it.

A few hours later, after briefing the team and coming up with a plan, Tommy watches Lindy out of the corner of his eye. They're back at the Cyber Crimes unit, Yeager and Catherine deep in debate about surveillance while Lindy stands off in a corner, conversing with Jake.

Tommy isn't sure what's going on there, he suspects that the Aussie has an agenda, but Lindy doesn't seem overly interested in him. Or so he thought, until Jake reaches out, grabbing Lindy's hand. Tommy half expects her to jerk away, but she doesn't. Feeling bitter, and a little like a peeping tom, he looks away. His head is buried in a box of old files when Lindy finds him.

"So." Her voice drifts into the box and he straightens up, blinking.

"Yeah?"

"Married? Really?"

He smirks.

"I know it was fast, but-" He drawls. She smacks him. "We should probably go pack, we're supposed to check in in an hour." Lindy nods.

They head out, Lindy saying a quick goodbye to Jake that Tommy pointedly ignores. They head back home, Lindy hauling out the suitcase she's been keeping her things in. They both throw a few things in together, just to get them through the night. He tries to ignore the way it feels to see their things mixed together so casually. _It's not real_. Will never be real. They'll solve this, and Lindy's life will go back to normal, leaving him exactly where he should be. Away from her.

The Virtual Slumber building is just as ritzy as he expected, and they huddle into the elevator with a sense of purpose. Maybe it's not the right one, but the prospect of catching any criminal at this point feels like a step forward. They've been chasing the flirtual killer for weeks and gotten nowhere. What they need right now is a win. The doors slide back open as they reach their floor, and he turns to Lindy.

"You ready?" She nods. So they walk forward, together.

They settle in with a glass of wine, one of their own after Lindy makes the switch. As they sit stiffly on the couch he remembers how easy it was before. That night with her feet in his lap, their heads tilted together as the evening wore on. He misses that. His phone rings, and he jumps on the chance for a distraction.

"You're acting like cops, not a couple." Yeager's words reverberate in his mind after he hangs up. The truth is he's afraid to cross that line with her. He can pretend all he wants, but his feelings are real, and all that the end of this charade will bring him is a disappointment he couldn't really understand before. Still, Yeager is right. He committed to this, and now he has to play the part.

He sits back down on the couch, drains his glass of wine. He's never been much for liquid courage, but tonight he needs all the help he can get. Turning back to Lindy, he brushes her hair off her cheek, heart pounding. He leans in, lips brushing her ear. He can smell his soap on her, and it sends his pulse racing even faster.

"They're watching." It's true, and it's enough for him. If he needed a reason, if he wanted to know what it was like, just once, this is his shot. He moves in, and Lindy only hesitates for a moment before tilting her face to meet his.

The kiss is like a hit of heroin, shooting fire into his veins. _It's not real_. But it _feels_ real. She gasps into his mouth and Tommy can't help it, he slides his other hand up to brush her neck, deepening the kiss even as his brain tells him to pull away. He's going to regret this. Lindy pushes back, tongue thrusting into his mouth as he tilts his head. He can barely suppress the groan, he wants more, but-

Lindy pulls away all at once. As cold air creeps in where she was scorching seconds before, Tommy blinks.

"Uh, we should get ready for bed. Right?" She says, looking almost entirely unaffected. He processes that, slowly. The feel of her lips on his, of her hair between his fingers, the taste of her mixed with the tang of red wine, they won't fade. He tries to pull himself together.

"Yeah." He gulps. "Yeah sure, whatever you say." She smiles and nods, disappearing down the hall to the bedroom. He lets out the breath he's been holding, then goes after her.

Later that night he loads her into the car, careful not to bump her head against the door. The bloodied bump on her head courtesy of Sasha hadn't even begun to heal yet, and now she had a concussion from slamming her head into the wall to go with it. She's been quiet since he found her, the whispered _thank you_ the only words she's said for hours. The other detectives had questions for her, but they were both tired and eager to get home. After being cleared to drive Tommy had simply lifted Lindy into his arms and carried her out to the parking lot. He'd given Catherine the best statement he could, and the rest could wait until tomorrow.

She was just as quiet now, and Tommy's nerves are still wrecked from everything that had happened. When she finally speaks it startles him so much he jumps in his seat, gripping the steering wheel to keep from swerving into the other lane.

"Jesus." He mutters, glancing over to make sure she's alright. She looks the same. Tired and sad. It doesn't hurt any less to see that now than it did an hour ago. "Sorry. What did you say?"

"I said it's been a pretty bad year. And for me, that's saying something." She says softly. There's something in her voice, not defeat, maybe shock. He doesn't like it.

"Yeah." He agrees. The urge to touch her again, just to feel that she's there and safe and whole, it's almost overwhelming. He's suddenly thankful that he's driving, that his hands have somewhere else to be.

They get home and he helps her up the stairs. She's still a little woozy from the fall, and from the shock, and she leans on him with a trust he isn't sure he deserves after tonight. The rest of the night is blur of blank stares and empty touches and by the time Lindy's asleep Tommy is exhausted. He's never been this emotionally invested in someone else, and the way she's hurting right now has seeped under skin, as though he can feel it. By the time he falls into bed he can barely keep his eyes open, and despite the images of that branding iron barely an inch from Lindy's back he falls asleep the second his head hits the pillow.

"NO!" The scream jars him awake, and he's on his feet before his eyes have fully opened. He hits the floor running, knowing exactly where the sound is coming from.

"Lindy!" He skids around the corner into her room, spotting Boris on her bed, his huge head nuzzling at Lindy as she thrashes under the sheets. It takes Tommy a moment to understand, for his heart rate to start dropping back to normal. A nightmare. He really shouldn't be surprised. He closes the rest of the distance to her bed, pushing Boris gently out of the way. "Thanks boy." He murmurs, and Boris hops off the mattress, understanding that he's being dismissed.

"Lindy." Tommy grips her shoulder softly, giving her a gentle shake. "Hey, wake up." He shakes a little harder and she gasps, a fist flying out from under the sheets before he has a chance to duck. She hits him squarely in the nose, the lack of any loud cracks assuring him that she, at least, hasn't broken it. But the trickle of warmth starts in the back of his throat and he sighs. He leans over her to grab a tissue, pressing it against his face as he tries again to wake her up. She finally startles awake, the scream half formed by the time she registers who's sitting next to her.

"Tommy." His name is a sigh on her lips, and he's glad he came, despite the bloody nose. Her eyes travel down his face to where he's holding a now blood stained Kleenex. "What…." Her brow furrows. He tilts his head back, pinching hard. She got a good punch in, but he's had worse and knows the bleeding won't last long. Sure enough, after a few seconds the dripping in his throat stops, and he pulls the tissue away to find that the bleeding in his nose has stopped as well. He turns his gaze on her.

"You've got quite a right hook." He tells her. Even in the dark she looks horrified.

"Oh my god. I'm so sorry, I-" He rolls his eyes, then cups her cheek in his hand.

"I'm fine. No offense." He teases. She smiles tiredly.

"I mean, I was unconscious." She says, with a trace of her old fire. He grins widely.

"That's my girl. Are you okay?" He wouldn't have asked, except her hand, where it's fisted in the blankets, it trembling. She moves to slip it back under the covers, but he grabs it. She bites her lip.

"Yeah. It was just a bad dream. At this point I'm kind of used to it." She sighs, and her mouth suddenly tugs downward into a frown. "Did I wake you up?" He shakes his head.

"I was already up." It's a lie, and he knows she'll see through it, but it's one he tells anyways. Her answering look tells him she isn't buying it. "You wanna talk about it?" It's a long shot. She shakes her head. He isn't surprised.

"I know this isn't really what you signed up for." She fidgets with the blanket with one hand, the other still encased in Tommy's. He frowns.

"I signed up to keep you safe. This is me doing that."

She looks thoughtful.

"Do you ever get them?" She asks. It takes a minute for him to understand what she's asking.

"Nightmares? Of course." He cocks his head, wondering what she's looking for. "When we were kids, Ben and I used to ride our bikes to the farmer's market during the summer. There was this one day when there was some kind of parade going on, a cultural thing, I can't remember for what. Anyways, Ben's mom didn't want us going into town because of that, but we went anyways."

"Of course." Lindy says, smiling. He nods.

"Well, you know how Ben was." She rolls her eyes.

"Yeah I'm sure it was all Ben's idea." She mutters. He grins.

"Well, we went. And, uh, there was this moment when Ben kind of lost control. He went over a railing and fell like 10 feet onto the sidewalk underneath. But-"

"He was fine." She finishes for him. He stares.

"Ben told you?" She shakes her head.

"No, you did. The other night."

He has to think about that, realizing that she's talking about the night they ran into Sasha.

"You remember that?"

"I remember all of it." She says softly. There's a moment of quiet, the tick of the wall clock in the living room echoing in the stillness of the house. He clears his throat.

"Anyways, I have this dream. Where I look over the railing and he's… not fine." He doesn't elaborate. There's no point in adding his own nightmares to hers. She regards him curiously for a moment before giving his hand a squeeze. She looks incredibly sad, more so than before, and he wonders if he shouldn't have brought up Ben at all. It suddenly occurs to him that her nightmares might have ended the same way his did. "I'm sorry, the last thing you need is me bringing that up…" He trails off as she smiles brokenly.

"It's not that. I just, I forget sometimes that I wasn't the only one who loved him. It's not just my loss. That he died protecting me. It just feels like I've taken something from his family. From…you." She can't quite meet his eyes and he's so appalled at the thought that she feels guilty for what he's lost that he momentarily loses his words. When he finds them they aren't gentle.

"Stop." His voice is harsh, especially in the quiet. "Lindy, you can't keep doing this. What happened to Ben wasn't your fault. If he were here he would do it all over again, okay? I knew him better than anyone. And what he sacrificed, he wouldn't have regretted it. But you can't live the rest of your life blaming yourself, it's not fair to him. He wouldn't have wanted that." His voice gets progressively softer, and by the time he's done her eyes are shining. His probably are too, but they both choose to ignore that.

"I just miss him." She says quietly. He aches for her, and himself.

"Yeah, me too." He gives her hand one more quick squeeze before getting to his feet. "Goodnight." It feels wrong leaving her. But it wouldn't feel right to stay either. He can almost hear the mental struggle going on behind him. If she asks him to stay, he will. He wants to. She doesn't.

"Goodnight."

He has nightmares after that. For the first time in a long time, Ben's nowhere to be seen. Instead, it's a brunette going over that railing, her long hair falling over her face before she disappears over the wall. He rushes over to it, heart clenching, and what he sees as he leans over the edge has a howl of pain tearing from his throat. Lindy lays spread eagle, her face up, eyes staring. Blood trickles out from under her head, a pool of crimson already beginning to form around her. But somehow, cruelly, that's not the worst part. His eyes are frozen on her neck, the neat line of red across it running into the river of blood from her head. The slit is familiar, and he can almost see Ben's face where hers is now. But all that's left of her is this emptiness, and Tommy finds himself wishing that's all he was too. He lets out another scream, this one ripping him up, out of his dream.

The echoes of it are still rattling in his head as pants, trying to catch his breath. He sees something move out of the corner of his eye, and another wave of adrenaline courses through him. As he calms down he recognizes the shape in his doorway as Lindy, hovering. He sits up, gestures for her to come in. She doesn't say anything, just walks up to stand beside his bed. In one swift moment she wraps her arms around his shoulders, pulling him in. He lets out a ragged breath, throwing his own arms almost violently around her lower back. She stays standing, just tightening her grip, and he presses his face into her chest. He doesn't know how she knew, wonders if she ever went back to sleep, but as he listens to the steady thrum of her heartbeat he suddenly doesn't care. He isn't sure how long they stay like that, her stand, him sitting on the edge of the bed, pressing himself into her like a child. Eventually she draws back, but instead of leaving she just crawls over him, sliding under the sheets. After everything that's happened in the last 24 hours he can't bring himself to wonder what this means. There's a shared weariness here that seems to be pressing down on them, and he doesn't imagine either of them will get much sleep alone. So he just lays back down beside her.

"Just for tonight." He says. He doesn't know who he's trying to reassure. A small hand finds his under the sheets, fingers lacing between his.

"Okay." She says. He's not sure either of them believe that, or if it matters anymore. The quiet comes back, a little more peaceful now that they're together. His last thought, before sleep reclaims him, is that he's no longer sure he knows how to live without her.

**A/N: Okay this chapter got away from me. But we will be returning to some killer plot, it's already been introduced but it will make more sense in the chapters to come. And I've decided to slowly integrate some of the canon plot to keep my story parallel to the show. What do you guys think so far?**


	8. Chapter 8

Hi to those still following this story.

Someone recently asked me if I was planning to continue/finish this story and I said yes because I had every intention of doing so. However, for the last 3 days in a row I've gone to work on the chapter currently in progress and realized I don't really have the motivation anymore. I'm not going to add any more updates to this story, I'm sorry, I just wanted to let you all know. Thanks for being amazing readers, I'll miss this fandom and this show.

-K


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